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polyratic May 2018
8 secs,
to terminate
the world that I knew

8 secs slow
only need a small few
to establish this curfew
next to his curfew

your God,
he saw you,
happy with your ways
his forgiveness lets you live life your way

did you ask for mine ?
just killing time ?
break time; the status
forget our timeline

but I'd rather you be happy
just a weakness I have
you get used to the pain
after this many steps in vain

this will keep you happy
fall in love with your sunshine and rays
. . . . . . . .
took me more than 8 secs that day
to remember better days

keep that glow in your voice
while I bleed tears for every dot on this page
Grace Mosby May 2018
i feel spring around me
in the melting snow
and blooming rose

you have tamed the winter
thawed the freeze on my heart
opened me to a world of hope

when i saw the white mountains
shrink to glacial puddles
i’ll admit
i was scared

  i had never let the sun get close enough
i shielded it with clouds of denial
resistant to the idea
of clean hands
on a dirtied heart

i feared forgetting the past
believing that old ladders
were the only way
i could reach the roof

but your sunlight cured my cold
and revealed to me
a season of gleaming, glowing gold
Deepa Ravi Apr 2018
She caresses the guy’s cheek asking for money when all she wants to do is leave a mark.

She sweet-talks the guy by the curb when all she wants to do is hurt him... hurt him bad.

She eyes him from across the room, signaling him to head back, when all she wants to do is stab him with the table knife.

She peers through the tinted car window and flashes a pearly smile when all she wants to do is rip his throat off.

She stands by the street corner, clapping and twirling in her lehenga trying to get his attention when all she wants to do is to light him on fire.

I am sitting in a cafe. Badly lit. I am safe here sitting with a guy who thinks he can eye me the way he is.

But hey. I wouldn't know the half of it, right?
Love in the name of opportunity.
levi eden r Apr 2018
did she tell you how my heart tells me i'm a boy?
did she tell you how i cried when i told her about my parents,
how i could barely breathe on the other line telling her how much i would shake feeling my house collapse every time they would yell?

did she tell you about us?
how i was always nervous to hold hands?
how distant i would be when things were bad?

did she tell you about That day?
that godforsaken day.
did she tell you how i said words from my heart that you called *******?
or how i kept saying that i couldn't do this anymore because she was holding me down.
i can't listen to music without thinking of her,
did she tell you that?

god, i have no more secrets and she knows every corner and part of me but will never look me in the eyes again.

my skin has been stripped and i lost myself giving her parts of myself and i feel like i have nothing left.
zb Apr 2018
i've been taught
that i can't trust the
people i should be able to trust most.
so i stopped trusting others.
and started closing myself off.

i wonder,
what is the ratio
of tears i've cried silently
(sobs i've suppressed into my pillow
gasping breaths that hurt my chest
hiccups, undoing the fibers of my lungs
wheezes, like those of a drowning child
all so silent.
i can't let anyone hear.)
to tears other people have seen.

what is the formula
i need to learn
to both protect myself
and keep myself from ruin?

because, surely
if i let others
see me at my most vulnerable
then i will expose my soft heart
and my fragile bones.

because, surely
if i do not let others
see the pain i carry
then eventually i will fold
under its weight.

what is the mathematical constant?
is there anything that stays the same?
is there anything that i can cling to?

i've become so afraid
of showing anyone anything
that no longer are my darkest fears secret.
now everything i am is.
everything i love is a deeply-kept secret.
even passing interests
are never spoken of
unless i am absolutely sure
they can't be used against me.

i've been taught
that the very words i speak
the thoughts i formulate;
they don't matter.
my opinions
come second to everyone else's.

i would ask you to trust me
and take this poem as something meaningful
but i've been taught
that trust will **** you
and my words are insignificant.
CA Smith Apr 2018
Captivated...
My thoughts,
you take hold of them.
I replay every moment we spend in my head.
In my mind you become that film from childhood,
filled with nostalgia and comfort.

Captivated...
My words,
if only I could find them,
I would save the sweetest for you.

Liberated...
My soul,
flowing like a brook in the summer,
you dip your toes in the stream.
I feel your presence,
and it fills me with vigor.

Liberated...
My feelings
They are now free,
free to run,
free to fly away,
to find new pastures,
Yet instead they lie next to you,
slumbering, entranced in your peace.

Forgotten...
My past,
a torn apart ship drowned in the ocean,
suddenly becomes forgotten.
Ancient hurts and ancient pains,
the wounds become fresh again,
and they become healed.

My doubts,
tearing, fighting, screaming at me.
They demand my attention.
Now their voice is lost.
Yours I hear instead,
and it calls me,
reminding me of a future,
cemented in trust.

Loved
It's a feeling,
a thought,
an emotion,
untanglible,
untarnished and true.
And now, at last,
I've found it in you.
An intimate poem for someone very close to me. I don't always share poetry that I write like this, but a friend of mine encouraged me to make it public, so I hope you enjoy it.
SelinaSharday Apr 2018
Dance wit meh naked..
Could I share my inner fragility,
show just how fragile I can be
If you were rich and I poor. would you embrace me at your door.
Would you abandon my empty.
Hold back your sympathy
Be blind to the goods I bring.
Would you, could you, dance wit meh naked.
                                                          ­                          wrapped in,
                                                             ­                            empathy.
                                                        ­                      the state I'm in is a basket of the complicated.
                                                    ­                       my hands appear naked.
Can I hear your music..Will you lend me a cup of stability.
twirl me around in your confidences.. allow me a cup of comfortability.
Parts of me come wrapped in simplicity. Adorned with gifts of invisible charms.
Chased your way by outside storms.
                                                         ­ Oh would You my Dear One..
Be able to take it.
The fact that I appear naked.
                                       Could you still..In fact will you still...
                                                        ­                                                      Dance with me N.A.K.E.D!
N ecessity
A cceptable
k eepable
E ndurable
D iamond .................................................................­.............in the rough.
And know theirs flaws in the both of...u.s
S.A.M 3-18
being open transparent, vulnerable and exposed yielding flaws and all.. void of the material the financial the quality is deep within your soul.
silenced Apr 2018
It took days,
only days,
for me to uncover
all you pretend you are not,
and all I do not
have to be a part of.
I smile for myself,
weep for those
who never even knew.

Yes, my love,
I weep for you.
Araoluwa Jacob Apr 2018
Lately, I don't understand.
I don't understand how,
How I can't control the water that rolls down my eyes like a waterfall.
It's meant to flow when I'm sad,
It's meant to assist me when I'm sober.
It does the opposite,
It makes me feel no remorse.
It makes me feel powerful.
Sometimes, I question it,
"Why have thee forsaken me when I need thee?"
it still does not reply.
I feel powerless over it.
it has more control.
One day, I stayed in the darkness.
my eyes were closed.
I was trying to blind myself from reality.
I was trying to create a world full of my own fantasies.
But it didn't work out well.
Tears crept in from behind,
they woke me up.
I was so close to escaping but they brought me back.
I tried to hold them in but they came faster than I ever imagined.
They sneaked in through a Trojan horse.
An unforeseen enemy.
They made me feel vulnerable.
I didn't need them but they came.
I'm sure they laughed because of the victory,
I cried because of my pain.
at a period in time, i could not control my tears. and whenever i felt remorse, they was no tears to express it.
Zha Zhap Apr 2018
Give me just two of your fingers, it is more frisky;
When excited why act out platonically.
Skin me;
No need to falsify.
Your small hands hold an ocean, then tide me;
Send more white horses to step on my rocky heart;
Of course, sunk already.
Not a submerged foreign object;
Down there I am a reef;
Living for eons, heartily.

You are dear as nature.
I am thirsty, near which slippery cliff is your river.

In the ocean of your hands;
I am fished.

As time passes by, I am more aware of you;
I feel the ocean is not a piece of you;
It is you.
It is like you are offering yourself.

Why is it pellucid?
I can see miles away;
Miles away a dissolving wine.

Your mother calls you;
A crystal big cat emerges from your ocean.
A friend calls you;
You shut your eyes.
Noone comes around.

I notice that I am going to hear a sound;
I hear it, coming from far-flung;
Makes you more chaotic.
Vortical eyes.

Your face is too hot;
It starts to boil;
Rivers come out of your eyes and mouth;
Pouring into your ocean.
No overflow.

What do you represent?
What if you are an atypical?
What do you remind me of?
A bare white-bluish waterfall who offers everything has got?

You have mentioned me in your genome, with a deep shade.
Unclad is an old-hat, we should reveal what we have inside;
By playing with locks.
Suggest me, l will romance you.
Your touch reminds me of the untold.

You freeze, no flow, like it was in the cards.
Your scent, strange.
I should leave to buy.
I hover around you.
My vulnerable bare;
It is up to me to protect you.
I should leave to buy a huge opaque.
I couldn't find my clothing and shoes;
Can I wear yours? Is it weird?

I hear from the neighbouring flat, someone crying in the bath.

You start to tilt and smudge like you were a design on a rug;
I fold it;
Put it in a suitcase;
And leave to exit.
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